Faulty Logic
by Dolphin64575
Summary: I refuse to believe the Squint Squad would abandon one of their own, and I couldn't find a fic detailing this, so here's Brennan taking Christine to meet Zach, ruminating on the twisted trail that brought him there. Family/ Drama/ Hurt/ Comfort/ Angst
1. Chapter 1

Brennan walked easily through the halls of the psychiatric care centre. Though none of them talked about it anymore, she was fairly certain most of them still came to pay Zach a visit. She adjusted her grip on the handle of the car-carrier, Christine asleep inside. She had shown Zach pictures before, but this was going to be their first meeting. She wasn't worried. Zach didn't pose any harm, he only had at one point due to Gormogon's faulty logic. When she had corrected his logic, he was immediately remorseful, and hadn't allowed himself to be swayed since then. She had slowly come to grips with what he'd done. Gormogon had likely chosen him for a number of reasons, Sweets had explained to her very rationally. In confusion about his place in the world after being sent home from the Army, highly intelligent, unaffected by death, with access to the silver skeleton. All it took was a small bit of logic, twisted so infinitesimally that he didn't realize it until she pointed it out. Every once in a while she'd wonder how many people he killed, but then she reminded herself that he was past that and bringing it up would make them both upset.

"Hey, Zach." She smiled, entering the plain room where he sat, setting Christine's seat on the table.

"Hello, Dr. Brennan. Hello, Christine." He grinned, his naturally wavy hair slightly longer than she remembered. He never called her by any sort of nickname, not even the 'Dr. B' that Hodgins seemed to prefer. Bones gently woke the infant, stroking her cheek with a finger. Christine gazed at Zach, eyes wide open, processing this new person. Bones trusted that he had learned from his extended family in Michigan how to interact with infants. "Hi, Christine." He smiled and waved at her, voice moving up a register, and his body movements centered around his face. His hands still bore faint scars from the grafts and regrowth. Christine smiled at him. "Hi. You're very lucky to have such smart parents, you know. I bet your big brother is going to be so protective of you when you start moving around."

"Parker already made her a mobile." Bones smiled. "He used the engine from an RC car he built with Booth, planets and axis from a model of the solar system, a Jeffersonian patch from one of my lab coats, an FBI patch from Booth's gym bag, a sound chip from a greeting card, and some family photos. That robot you gave Booth to give him that Christmas we thought we had Valley Fever might have been one of the things that sparked his interest in robotics and engineering."

"If he's starting at such an early age, and proficient enough to construct a functional mobile, you'll want to think about getting him enrolled in classes, teaching him safety measures." Zach stated. "I pinched my fingers and electrocuted myself a bit more than was necessary due to my lack of formal training at first."

"That's a good idea, Zach. Thank you." He reached out to smooth down a wisp of Christine's fine hair that was sticking up. Bones noted the security guard watching closely. Christine grabbed his hand and examined it, with him letting her do as she pleased, even beginning to teethe on his fingers. Bones noted the guard's jaw muscles were tight, his hand hovering over his taser.

"Dr. Addy doesn't pose any threat." She informed the man.

"It's alright, Dr. Brennan. I make them nervous." Zach still appeared to be focused solely on Christine, but she knew he could easily multi-task.


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you still playing sudoku to pass the time?" She asked.

"Occasionally. I also play chess with the other patients, the human element and continuance of strategy makes it more of a challenge than a pencil-and-paper game. The psychiatrists hope that I'll make bonds of friendship that would prevent me from harming anyone here."

"They've told you this?" She asked. In her experience, psychiatrists and psychologists were not so forthcoming about their motives.

"No, but it's the only logical reason I've been able to come up with."

"Have you considered that they might simply want to see you grow as a person?"

"That is not their job, their job is evaluating whether I pose a danger to myself or others. I haven't noticed any behaviors that would indicate that any of them care for me on anything deeper than a professional level. I cannot form bonds with them like I did at the Jeffersonian, both because of the lack of shared interests and their relative position of power." She smiled, he was just as rational as last time, still watching Christine play with his hand.

"Is it possible that they believe human interaction to be another stimulus for your intelligence?"

"Very few of the other patients are relatively close to me in intelligence, and those that are are knowledgeable in areas I don't wish to discuss." Bones frowned, it wasn't like him to make a simple error like that.

"Zach, I didn't ask if you considered the other patients to be adequate stimulus, I asked if you believed the psychiatrists to theorize that human interaction to be stimulus." She found herself leaning closer to him, searching for whatever caused him to make such a simple mistake. He looked at her quickly, making tense eye contact.

"My apologies, Dr. Brennan." He turned his gaze back to Christine. To anyone else besides perhaps Sweets, their exchange would be meaningless. But Zach didn't make mistakes like that. Could something be affecting his thought process? Even something as simple as low-dose anxiety medications might hinder cognitive function enough for him to make that mistake. Such a small side-effect that most wouldn't even notice it. "It is possible that the psychiatrists believe interacting with the other patients to be beneficial to me. They don't appear to be well equipped to deal with my intellect." Bones smiled. So ill-equipped that Zach had been able to get out with relative ease.


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you on any medications?" She asked.

"I requested Prozac a week ago, we're simply waiting for it to take effect. Thinking about my future is rather depressing, and there's not much else to think about." Of course Zach would notice his impending depression before any of the professionals. And that might explain his oversight in her question.

"Do you talk to anyone about those depressing thoughts? A psychiatrist here? Dr. Sweets?"

"Not really, not yet. I wanted to gather as much data as possible without interference of professionals. I'm reasonably sure of my conclusion, and the psychiatrists agree." Her smile turned sad, ever since Gormogon he hadn't been fully confident of his reasoning capabilities. Even now, years later, he deferred his insights to others to test their validity. Christine was falling asleep with his finger still in her mouth, his hand still in her grip. "Booth knows you're here?"

"Yes. He's not completely comfortable with you meeting Christine, but he trusts that I trust you. If he knew she had your finger in her mouth, he might start to lecture me about infants' weak immune systems." She smiled.

"He does realize that the more germs she's exposed to, the healthier her immune system will become?"

"He keeps telling me we can do that later; he's kind of overprotective. I wonder if he was this way with Parker."

"It would depend on how much time they got to spend together. Are you going to raise her vegetarian?"

"For now, yes. Booth and I will need to talk about it before she starts eating solid food regularly, but he keeps putting that off, as well." She sighed.

"I assume if you decide to raise her vegetarian, you'll be able to keep her proteins and other necessary food groups balanced?"

"Of course. There's organic vegetarian baby food, and even Parker hasn't had many qualms with my cooking once we get him to try it. Well, besides not getting to have chicken nuggets." She shrugged. "I've been hoping to go out hunting and get some venison. Booth still seems rather averse to the idea of me handling a gun." Zach smiled.

"Still? After you've proven what an excellent markswoman you are?"

"I think he's more nervous about me killing an animal and cooking it than me with a gun. I've explained to him how rare hunting accidents are when one follows the proper safety precautions."

"One in… ten million." Zach calculated.

"Interesting. I figured it would be higher. What variables did you use?"

"Chances of getting shot from other hunters, chances of shooting self, chances of falling from a tree stand, chances of getting caught in a beartrap or something of the sort, chances of being trampled by a wounded animal, chances of happenstance such as a tree falling over… Would you like me to continue? I grew up in Michigan, I know of many ways one could become injured while hunting."

"That's alright, though you did name quite a few that I hadn't thought of. You know of someone becoming injured from a falling tree while hunting?"

"Billy and Robbie Conley, twins a few years older than me, when I was 11. Robbie got trapped underneath and Billy ran for help. Folks said if Billy hadn't've been there, Robbie would have probably died." For the past few minutes he had been slowly sneaking his hand away from Christine, who was now fully asleep.

"Do you recall hearing any information on Robbie's injuries?" She paused. "I'm sorry, Zach, this is probably not what you'd like to talk about." She chuckled.

"It's quite alright Dr. Brennan. I remember that Robbie had quite a few lacerations from the branches, and some broken ribs, possibly compression fractures. This interests you?"

"Well, I can imagine a few teenage boys ignoring a dead tree, but the fact that it fell on one of them is intriguing. I doubt a few gunshots would bring down a large enough tree to pin someone underneath, even a dead tree."

"Dr. Brennan, if you don't mind my asking, what insights are you hoping to gain from talking about this?"

"Simply an intellectual exercise. The chances of a dead tree happening to fall at the exact time and place to land on a person, are those odds calculable?" Zach stared at the far wall, his lips moving minutely. An orderly entered the room, briefly breaking Zach's concentration.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut your visit short, Mr. Addy's group therapy session starts in a few minutes."

"That's quite alright, except that he has a doctorate."

"We know, ma'am, but in here we refer to any psychiatric professional as 'Doctor', and calling Mr. Addy by his correct title would cause too much confusion among the other patients."

"It's alright Dr. Brennan." Zach stood, extending a hand to shake. Bones strode around the table and hugged the young man.

"It was good to see you again, Zach." She shook his hand lightly, not sure to what extent his nerves had healed. "You'll get back to me on that figure?"

"Of course, Dr. Brennan. Goodbye. Goodbye, Christine." He waved and walked away with the orderly while Bones picked up Christine's car carrier and left.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Bones?" Booth called through the house. "Psych center wants to talk to you about Zach. Weren't you going to see him in a week or so?"

"Yes, we have a standing date for the second Saturday of every month." She replied, trading the baby on her hip for the phone in his hand. "This is Dr. Temperance Brennan." Booth watched, concerned, as the colour drained from her face and she sat hard on the nearest chair. "Are you certain? I find it hard to believe he'd do that… I understand… I understand, I'll stop by tomorrow around 11 AM. Thank you for letting me know." Bones ended the call and simply sat, staring at the phone.

"Did he attack another patient?" Booth asked softly.

"He's dead." She replied, voice cracking. "He committed suicide. They- he left a note addressed to me." She looked up at Seeley Booth, her anchor of constants in all these years when things had been so tumultuous. Her eyes welling up with tears. "I should have known, should have warned him-"

"Parker?" Booth called.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Can you play with Chrissy for a little while?" The boy ran into the kitchen, stopping worriedly when he saw Bones about to cry. He walked over and hugged the woman tight.

"I'm sorry. Whatever happened, I'm sorry you're upset." He gave her a small smile before taking Christine in his arms and going upstairs to play together. Bones looked up at Booth helplessly.

"I knew was starting antidepressants, I should have- warned him of the initial emotions- chemical imbalances-" She sobbed. Booth gathered her in his arms and carried her to the couch, holding her tight and rocking. He rubbed her back and rocked, not rushing her, letting her get all her emotions out. She curled up on his lap, clutching his shirt, irrationally afraid that he might leave.

"I've got you. I'm right here. It's not your fault." He whispered over and over. She dozed off, emotionally exhausted from the news. She woke briefly while he carried her to bed, but was back to sleep within a minute of her head hitting the pillow.


	5. Chapter 5

She stumbled out of bed as Christine's wailing penetrated her consciousness.

"I've got her." Booth assured her, gently steering her back to bed. Bones fell back to sleep without argument. This happened a few more times over the course of the night, always with Booth settling her back in bed.

She lay in bed awake, listening to Booth try to soothe Christine, who kept fussing.

"Dad?" She heard Parker's shuffling footsteps move closer. "Daddy? Is Bones OK? I haven't seen her since you said she had a phone call from Zach at the psych ward."

"It's alright, Buddy, she just got some bad news. Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to bed."

"Can't sleep with Chrissy crying. Can I hold her?"

"Ok, but be very careful, she's squirming."

"I got her. Hi, Chrissy. What's wrong? Why are you so upset? You want to see your mommy? Mommy's asleep right now, she had a bad day. You know how tired she is? She went to bed before I did. Yeah, and I didn't even beg Dad to stay up past bedtime. I'll teach you about that when you get older. I'll teach you all the stuff you need to know. I'll teach you how to get a later bedtime, and how to have sweets before dinner, and how to bargain on how many bites to eat. I'll help teach you how to ride a bike, and we can ride around together. And maybe when the adults say they'll tell you things when you have hair under your arms, maybe I'll tell you. I can't make any promises, though." Bones smiled, listening to Parker talk to his baby sister, her cries quieting. She heard the faint tune of Christine's mobile turn on, and the boys' footsteps headed back to Parker's room.

Booth snuggled into bed with her, holding her close, her hands on his chest.

"He's so good with her." Bones whispered. "She quieted right down when he started talking."

"They're enamored with each other. Enamored? Intrigued?"

"Captivated?" She suggested, smiling.

"That works. Do you uh, want me to come with you tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Having an FBI agent might make them answer my questions more readily."

"Temperance, it's - you can't hide behind logic on this one." He sighed. "It's not healthy. I know it hurts, let me help you through it." She didn't respond. Thinking things through logically always turned out to have the best result, letting emotions cloud thinking didn't help anyone. Booth needed to listen to his emotions because he was a people person, but she needed to be able to think clearly to do her job.

"I think I would like you there for moral support." She whispered, ducking her head to his chest. They were the perfect partners for each other, and doing something this emotional without him would be harder than necessary.

"Okay." He grabbed his phone off the nightstand. "Hello, Director, Special Agent Seeley Booth here, just letting you know that I won't be in tomorrow when you get this message, unexpected death in the family. I'll keep you updated on my availability. Thanks, bye."

"Death in the family?" She repeated as he put the cell back.

"He's your family, you're my family, it counts. Plus, we have a kind of guy bond."

"Thank you." She laid her head on his chest and drifted back to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

She turned the radio alarm off and let her arm fall back onto the bed. She understood that messing with her sleep schedule was unhealthy, but since having Christine she cared less, taking sleep where she could get it.

"Oh, you're going to make me be the responsible one, aren't you?" Booth teased, pecking her on the lips. He brought Christine into their room and she quickly fell back to sleep between them.

"Dad? Can I go watch cartoons?" Parker asked from the doorway.

"You want to lay in bed with us?"

"That's for little kids. I'm almost 12."

"C'mon Parker." Bones smiled sleepily. "All 4 of us, just for a little while."

"Well, okaaayyyy…" He rolled his eyes and clambered over his dad, carefully settling himself between Christine and Booth. In a few minutes, all three of them were peacefully asleep, and Bones couldn't resist the urge to grab her cell off the nightstand and snap a quick picture. She'd send it to Angela later. She set an alarm for 9:30 and fell back to sleep.

She groaned groggily and turned off the alarm, turning to look at her little family and seeing 2 bright little pairs of eyes looking back.  
"Morning, guys." She smiled.  
"Morning, Bones." Parker grinned.  
"Booth, we need to get up." She shook his shoulder.  
'"Kay." He rubbed his eyes and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  
"Morning, Dad." Parker threw his arms around Booth's neck from behind.  
"Hey, Bud." Booth grabbed Parker's arms and stood, easily lifting the boy.  
"Dad, I'm too big for piggyback rides." He protested, but he was smiling. Bones reached up to ruffle both their hair before lifting Christine to get her changed.

"There, that's better." She smiled down at her daughter. She snapped a onesie on her, followed by a little pair of jeans with an elastic waistband, and snaps along the inner seam. She pulled socks over Christine's tiny toes, and a hat on her head. She laid Christine on a play-mat with toys and mirrors above her, waiting until Booth came in to watch her before grabbing a quick shower and getting dressed in normal jeans-and-a-t-shirt Saturday attire.

She brought Christine into the kitchen for breakfast, finding Parker sitting not even 1 and a half meters away from the television, still in his pajamas, a bowl of sugary cereal on his lap. She laid Christine in a bouncy seat, velcro'd a bib on her, and began warming up a bottle, sticking some bread in the toaster.  
"Parker, please sit on the couch, you'll strain your eyes and wrench your neck sitting like that." Parker groaned but did as she asked. She tested the temperature of Christine's bottle, giving her daughter her breakfast and wiping the inside of her wrist on the bib. "Parker, could you come here for a moment?"  
"Do I have to?"  
"It's commercials; you won't miss your show. I want to tell you what the plan for today is." He turned the volume down and walked over, folding his arms to lean on the island. "I'm not sure how much your dad wants you to know, but we're going to the psych center today and if it's okay with your dad, I was wondering if you'd like to come with us."  
"To talk to Zach?"  
"No, we won't be seeing Zach, just doctors and nurses and the like."  
"I think I'd rather stay here."  
"Okay. We're bringing Christine with us, so you won't have to deal with a sitter."  
"Cool. Is that all you wanted to talk about?"  
"Yup."  
"Good talk." He nodded, heading back to the couch. Christine dropped her bottle and began to fuss, Bones wiped her mouth with the bib and shook some toy keys for her to play with. Booth walked in, freshly showered, and began buttering the toast that had popped up.  
"I asked Parker, and he'd prefer to stay here instead of coming with us." She informed him, grabbing a slice of toast.  
"You sure?" Booth asked his son.  
"Da-yud." Parker groaned from in front of the TV. "You won't tell me anything, it'll probably be a bunch of boring walking around and sitting." Booth glanced at her.  
"Hey, that's your decision." She told him. "If you're asking my advice, I think he can handle it. He's a tough kid."  
"Yeah, but this is different. I don't know how well he'd take this."  
"I think he'll be alright." Parker interuppted, standing at the island with them. "So please don't talk about him like he's not in the room. I changed my mind, I wanna go with you guys. Figure out what you want me to know while I go get dressed."  
"Please put your bowl in the sink." Bones reminded him, and he grabbed his cereal from the couch and turned off the television before dumping his bowl down the sink and heading up to his room to change.

"What makes you think he's ready for this?" Booth asked, pouring sugar in his coffee.  
"Well, he wasn't even phased by finding a finger in a bird's nest a few years ago."  
"He was four. He probably didn't fully realize what it was."  
"And, shielding children from death makes it harder for them to cope with it later in life."  
"When did you start believing in psychology?"  
"Well, Dr. Wyatt and Sweets have been right on numerous occasions, and I imagine child psychology is a harder science than adult psychology, and I defer to experts."  
"Well, how much do you think we should tell him? That it concerns Zach? That you won't be visiting from now on? That Zach died? How he died? I'm not sure if we should go with less information or more." Booth said. Brennan thought for a moment. Christine dropped her toy keys.  
"I believe you should tell him that Zach died, and answer any following questions he has as you see fit." She picked up the toy keys off the floor, and when Christine didn't want to play with them, set them on the island. She began to spread jam on another slice of toast when they heard Parker's footsteps on the stairs.

"Did you guys figure out how much you're telling me, or do I need to go waste more time in my room?" He asked, rounding the couch and kneeling on it, leaning on the back to face them.  
"Yeah, Bud, the uh, the reason we're all going to the center is because uh, because Zach's- he's not with us anymore." Booth ran a hand through his hair nervously.  
"'Not with us anymore' as in transferred to another center, or 'not with us anymore' as in dead?"  
"As in dead. Zach- Zach's dead. Do you want to come with us, or stay here?"  
"I'll stay here." Parker replied after a moment of thought.  
"Okay. You know the rules for staying home alone."  
"No friends over, no leaving the house, don't open the door unless it's you or Max, clean up my messes, call if I need anything, yadda yadda yadda." He recited, turning to sit on the couch properly and watch television.  
"You got it. We should be back in time for a late lunch, we'll call if there's a change in plans."  
"Got it."  
"Love you."  
"Love you, too, Dad." His head popped back over the couch. "I love you and Christine, too, Bones." He told them with a small smile.  
"Oh, uh, I love you too, Parker." She smiled, taken by surprise.  
"Bye." He sunk out of sight again, turning the television on.  
"Bye."  
"See ya, bud."  
They got in the big black SUV and headed off.  
"Well, that wasn't so bad. He didn't even ask any questions." Booth grinned, relieved. "Do you- do you think not asking questions is a bad thing? Like, he's brushing off death, refusing to acknowledge it?"  
"Booth, I'm sure he's completely fine. You can ask Sweets about it, if you like."  
"Yeah, yeah, maybe I will. You think Sweets knows about Zach?"  
"I imagine so, Sweets was the psychologist that put him in the center, and visited quite a bit."  
"You think they notified the other Squints?"  
"I'm not sure. Zach and Hodgins were rather close, competing for 'King of the Lab', Cam called him 'Zacharoni' because she noticed he ate macaroni and cheese every day, he tended to go to Angela for relationship advice..." She trailed off.  
"You doing alright?" He asked, taking her hand in his and glancing away from the road to look into her eyes.

"I'm not sure." She replied honestly. "I know emotions aren't my strong point, but that usually pertains to other people's emotions. Normally I can handle my own emotions just fine, but I don't know what I feel. I don't think I feel sad, but I know I should be sad. I- I feel sad for all of our victims, but I don't feel sad now. I don't think I feel anything. I think I might be in shock, not physically, but emotionally."

"Yeah, I think you're right. You're in shock. Your brain hasn't finished processing the fact that you'll uh, never see Zach again. You won't get all the answers to the questions you wanted to ask him. It takes time to come to grips with." He squeezed her hand gently. She laced her fingers through his. She had a responsibility to Zach, he left her a message and she needed to read it, no matter how emotional she may or may not be. They pulled into the parking lot and Booth ran around the car to grab her hand again as she lifted Christine's seat, the young girl had fallen asleep from the motion of the car. She held onto him tightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. "I'm right here." He whispered, looking her in the eyes. They strode confidently into the psych center, hand in hand.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: From here on in, this story has been taken hostage. I don't normally do this, but I have the next few chapters prepared and I waited a whole week for someone to post a review on the last chapter. So, I won't post a chapter until I get a review on the newest. I only want one review per chapter, guys. Tell me what you like, what you don't like, what you hope will happen, what you hope won't happen, if I'm in-character or OOC… **

**Also: Just because you post a review doesn't mean the next chapter will be up the next day. I may run out of buffer chapters and have to write faster, or have my internet go down or something. But reviews will help me update faster. **

Brennan stepped up to the front desk, setting Christine's seat on the ground.  
"Hello, welcome to Pauly's Psychiatric Care Centre, how can I help you?" The woman behind the desk greeted them.  
"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan, I was told Dr. Zachariah Addy left a note for me."  
"Let's see, Dr. Addy..." She typed on her computer, her forehead wrinkling as she scrolled. "I'm sorry, we don't employ a Dr. Addy, ma'am."  
"Dr. Addy is- was a patient here." She faltered a bit and Booth squeezed her hand reassuringly. The woman typed on her computer for a moment.  
"Yes, here we go, Dr. Stilson has marked an appointment with you in a few minutes concerning Mr. Addy. His office is just down this hall, take the first left, fourth door on your right." She smiled.  
"Thank you." Bones picked up Christine's seat and led the way to Dr. Stilson's office.

"Pauly's Psychiatric Care Center?" Booth whispered.

"Yes, you didn't know the full name?" She followed his example and lowered her voice.

"No, I just referred to it as the psych center and everyone knew what I was talking about. So the initials are PPCC?"

"Yes, why do you find this so important?"

"I'll tell you after." He chuckled. "Not proper to talk about right now." She moved it to the back of her mind and knocked on Dr. Stilson's door.

"Dr. Brennan, please enter." A tall black man welcomed them into the office. It wasn't so small for them to be uncomfortably close, but not so large that the desk and 3 chairs took up undue space. Dr. Stilson sat behind his desk and motioned them to the two remaining chairs. "Dr. Brennan, I understand you had a relatively close relationship with Mr. Addy. We found a sealed envelope in his room with your name on it." Dr. Stilson passed it to her before turning to Booth. "I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Dr. Ronald Stilson, I was Mr. Addy's psychologist and psychiatrist."

"Seeley Booth, I'm Dr. Brennan's boyfriend. I also knew Zach, but not as well." The men shook hands and waited patiently while Brennan read Zach's letter. Booth rubbed her shoulder when he noticed her blinking back tears.

"Zach, he, uh-" She paused to take a calming breath.

"You can do this. Try just the facts." Booth encouraged.

"He writes that while he knows his depression is due to a chemical imbalance, further aggravated by the medication, he does not feel like he's serving a purpose here, with no hope of re-entering the working world. He's taking up space that could be used to rehabilitate another patient, one with a chance of recovery. Logically, the only way to make space for another patient is to remove one here." Booth placed his hand over hers and she clasped it tightly, taking another breath, slightly shaky. "He just didn't see a point to staying here for the rest of his life, not producing anything, not moving forward, and formed logical reasoning to support his conclusion. It's a very immature form of false reassurance. The chemical imbalances the antidepressants caused didn't help things. Did anyone notice any indications of his depression getting worse?"

"Well, hindsight is 20-20, and there were a few minute changes in his behavior, but nothing to suggest he was suicidal."

"Hey, uh, what I don't get, how did the antidepressants make him more depressed?" Booth interjected.

"Well, Zach was taking Prozac, an SSRI, those work by preventing the reuptake of serotonin by the presynaptic neuron, thus maintaining higher levels of serotonin in the synapse." Bones explained.

"Serotonin is a feel-good chemical, that's about all I've got." Booth stated. Dr. Stilson smiled at them. "To answer your question in layterms, Mr. Booth, before the serotonin takes effect and elevates a person's mood, it elevates their energy. So they still feel depressed, but they feel the motivation to do something about it, which usually leads to suicide attempts. I'm afraid that happened with Mr. Addy. We had many discussions about logic, and about how it must be viewed through a filter of the social norms. It appears that I didn't make enough of an impression."  
"He believed his logic to be infallible, and for the greater good." Bones told him. "If you don't mind my asking, how much autonomy and privacy did Zach have?"  
"Quite a bit. He followed all the rules, didn't antagonize any of the other patients and was here indefinitely. He was allowed paper on his desk, given mostly free reign when he wasn't in therapy. He was given almost everything he requested, such as sudoku puzzles, cipher games, things to occupy his time and intellect, and most recently an envelope. We monitored the activity in his room with a security camera, and searches weekly. None of the desks have drawers, and the beds were stripped and checked underneath. We didn't find any evidence that he was having suicidal thoughts."  
"Is it- Could we see his body?" Bones asked, Booth squeezing her hand when she faltered.  
"Of course." Dr. Stilson led them to the elevator, Bones refolding the letter and slipping it into her back pocket. "Would you like to know how he died?"  
"Please."  
"Heart attack due to insulin overdose."  
"Insulin? That's practically undetectable." Even her own team would have trouble identifying it as cause of death.  
"We found him in an exam room in the infirmary, insulin in one hand, needle in the other. Security camera confirmed chain of events." They followed him through the morgue, where he checked Zach's chart and pulled out a body drawer. He was covered by a white sheet from his shoulders to his ankles, only slightly paler than he should have been.  
"Oh, Zach." She set down Christine's seat on the floor, stroking his face. "How long were you hiding this?" She felt a sob rising in her chest, her face contorting. "Why didn't you talk to me? You checked your logic about everything else but this." She turned into Booth, tears running down her face. He held her close as she shook from the emotion overwhelming her.


	8. Chapter 8

"It's alright." He whispered into the top of her head. "I'm right here, I've got you. It'll be ok." Dr. Stilson closed Zach's drawer. Once Bones had composed herself she stepped away from Booth, still holding his hand, wordlessly accepting the tissue Dr. Stilson offered, wiping her face and tossing it in a nearby trash bin.  
"Would you like me to inform the others who visited Mr. Addy frequently of his passing?"  
"Please." Booth answered before she could.  
"Booth, I can do it, I can tell them."  
"You don't have to put yourself through that. Dr. S will be able to answer everyone's questions much better than you can. Defer to the expert on this one." He looked into her eyes. She tried to protest, this might help her with the grieving process, but he cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth. "Have you ever spoken to his family?"  
"No."  
"What are you going to tell them when they ask why his old boss is telling them this news, instead of his psychiatrist?" She knew that saying she was a close friend might cause the family to make assumptions, and she couldn't really come up with a better phrase to describe their relationship.  
"I see your point." She acquiesced. "Dr. Stilson? Is there anything else you wish to tell us?"  
"Unless you have any more questions, I think we're done."

"Thank you very much." She grabbed Christine's seat and headed back toward the elevator, Booth and Dr. Stilson following.

"Oh, before I forget-" Dr. Stilson reached into a pocket on his lab coat, withdrawing business cards. "If you or anyone else who knew Mr. Addy should wish to contact me for any reason." Booth accepted the cards and they exited the elevator, parting ways at the doctor's office.

"Thank you again." Booth told him. They exited the psych center and Bones put Christine's seat back in the car attachment. She had slept through the whole thing. She turned to get in the passenger's seat and Booth enveloped her in a hug.

"What're you doing?" She asked, hugging him back.

"Physical contact can help people deal with complicated emotions." He replied. She hugged him harder, hoping that would help them each deal with the complicated emotions they were feeling. She held him until he loosened his grip, that was how hugs worked, whoever initiated it ended it, in most cases. They got into the SUV and drove home.


	9. Dear Dr Brennan

_Dear Dr. Brennan, _

_About your question as to the chance of a tree falling with no outside influence at the exact time and place to fall on a person, the odds are so infinitesimal as to be incalculable. _

_The reason I am telling you this in a letter and not waiting to tell you face-to-face is that I am not sure I will be able to tell you, that is, I might not be alive. _

_I understand that this will likely come as a shock to you. Though the games of Sudoku and chess and the like have occupied my time well, they haven't occupied my mind. I am going to be walking the halls of a psychiatric care centre until I die. That was the deal for not going to prison, possibly being given a death sentence. But I'm static here, not doing anything of value, not able to rejoin you and the others in the 'real world'. (Everyone else here refers to the world outside the centre as 'real', as though what happens in here is unreal, a fantasy or hallucination.) I understand that my current emotions are due to the fluoxetine beginning to regulate the chemicals in my brain, but even when I feel better about my situation, it will not have changed. I will be in a psychiatric care centre, taking up space, time, and money that could be better used on a patient with the possibility of leaving the centre and reentering the 'real world'. Transferring to a different centre will not solve the problem, simply transport it. I see no purpose in remaining here, and I hope that whoever replaces me gets the help they need. _

_Also: I feel Dr. Sweets would like me to tell you this. I told him approximately three years ago, as he escorted me back after I used my library card to get out and help you on the case. He wanted to tell you then, but I forbade him. You may tell the others, if you like. Technically speaking, I did not kill anyone. I did not eat anyone. I assisted the Master in anything he required, and I believe that if he had asked me to kill, or perform cannibalism, I would have. Dr. Sweets is emphatic that I cannot know that about myself, that the ability to kill is something that cannot be theorized, cannot be known until a person is placed in such a situation. I disagree. I believe I would have done whatever the Master asked of me. I am unsure whether this news will make you happy or not, that I have not killed nor committed cannibalism, but that I believe I would have. _

_I hope you and the others will be able to move past my death. _

_Zach _


	10. Chapter 9

"Parker?" Booth called as they entered the house. Bones lifted Christine from her seat and smiled at her daughter as she awoke.

"Hey, guys." Parker descended the stairs, hugging Booth, and then Bones. "What do you want for lunch? There's some leftover grilled tofu salad in the fridge."

"What's up with you?" Booth asked. "Normally you'd be asking which restaurant we're going to."

"Yeah, but, I figure talking to doctors and stuff about Zach is hard, and when I'm having a bad day, you guys do stuff for me to make it better, so, I wanna make your day a little better."

"You know what?" Bones said. "I think I'd rather go to the diner."

"You're not just saying that to make me happy because I'm a kid?" Parker asked her suspiciously.

"Parker, have I ever treated you like a kid?" She chuckled.

"Not really. Ok, to the diner!" He grinned. Bones put Christine back in the seat and fastened the seatbelts, the infant beginning to fuss. Bones gave her a toy fabric butterfly with crinkly wings, and a mirror were the face would be. She chewed on a rope antenna happily.

Bones ordered a salad at the diner, Parker ordered chicken wings, and Booth ordered a cheeseburger.

"Can I ask a question?" Parker asked.

"Technically, you just did, but yes, go ahead." Bones smiled.

"So, um, Zach, he, uh–" He paused as the waitress set down their meals.

"It's alright. Take a minute, figure out what you want to say, and we'll answer your question as best we can." Bones smiled. She was familiar with the sensation of her mouth not being able to keep up with her racing thoughts, leading to incoherent words tumbling out. Parker nodded and munched on a fry, staring out the window thoughtfully. Booth glanced at her, and she knew he was worried about what Parker wanted to know. She smiled at him calmly. They could handle it. If worst came to worst, they'd go visit Sweets.

"Why?" Parker asked, looking at Bones.

"Why what?"

"Why did Zach do it?"

"Well, first off, the chemicals in his brain were messed up, making him depressed. Second, he had no chance of ever being released from the psych centre. This combined to make him feel very hopeless, he felt his only choices were being bored in the psych centre until he died, or to die."

"How did Zach's brain chemicals get messed up?" Parker asked.  
"It just happens sometimes, we're not entirely sure why. Hey, Booth, do you think Sweets would know?" Bones asked, giving her partner a chance to make an excuse to take Parker to the shrink.  
"Maybe. You can ask next time you see him." Bones smiled a bit to herself. She had been introducing Booth to veggies that might top his burgers well; his cheeseburger had jalapeños, onions, and roasted red peppers in addition to the regular lettuce and tomato. They ate in silence for a few minutes, Bones was enjoying her vegan New York salad, she hadn't imagined apples and soy-cheese would work together, but they complemented each other well. Parker appeared satisfied with his wings, and Booth's burger was nearly half gone. Christine began to fuss and wouldn't accept toys or being held. Booth wordlessly pulled a blanket out of the diaper bag, the boys focusing on their food as Christine began to nurse.  
"Did it hurt?" Parker asked.  
"Did what hurt?" Booth and Brennan were almost synchronized.  
"Zach. Did it hurt?"  
"No, bud, it was very peaceful." Booth assured him, glancing at Bones. She nodded infinitesimally, she would go along with Booth and not tell Parker what a heart attack was. He didn't need to worry about things like that. They finished their meal, paid, and went home.


End file.
